Monday, January 14, 2008


It is still dark here on the East Coast. I turned on my computer to get in some writing before my work day begins. My fist thoughts: bypass email, if I want to accomplish a few paragraphs I need to be disciplined. This is Monday and the beginning of a new week.

After a self appointed measure of time, the buzzer in my head rang loud giving me permission to check and answer email before going into the phone booth to shower. Phone booth? The doors to my shower stall are genuine oak telephone doors; vintage Super Man stuff. The joke has been with us for years, but anyone younger than dirt probably doesn’t know that the original Superman changed his clothes in a phone booth. The old days and the old ways, there are those who would know, those who lived through those by gone times; some still with us and some now gone.

The first and only email I read this morning was the one telling me of the passing of fellow Kunati, “On Ice” author, Red Evans. My fingers fell silent on the keyboard. We knew that Red was in Hospice and that his “cancer had cancer”, but what we didn’t know was when the end would come. When would we get the email received this morning?

I didn’t know Red personally, but he was part of this growing Kunati author family I belong to, and his passing resonates significantly. Each one of us has had the good fortune to become a published author, for most of us, a dream come true. Red lived a long full life and he too felt that one of his proudest achievements was as an author. Although I didn’t have the opportunity to meet him, I laughed long and hard over many of his comments. He used humor to navigate life; it seemed nothing that filtered into his brain came back out without a quip, a comment or a flip-side.

None of us are getting out alive. We just don’t know when or how. Red’s passing has left a hole in the universe, a space in our Kunati ranks. There’ll be no moving over; no rush to fill the blank. Instead, I believe, Red Evans will live on among us. He was a writer after all and writers never die; their words, their humor, their very soul lives on.

Have the best day everyday…

Linda Merlino

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